A Beachside Visit from Scarlet Macaws

If, like me, you were curious about the bird shown in the photo in last week’s post, wonder no longer. Readers Pat and John were kind enough to post a comment identifying the creature as a Laughing Falcon. A beautiful white-breasted raptor with a black mask in my backyard! Fabulous! It certainly earned its name with a very loud “laugh” just outside my office window.

On a trip to Herradura Beach yesterday with friends Jan and Tom, we had the good fortune of seeing a couple of other amazing Costa Rican birds: Scarlet Macaws! Only minutes after we arrived at this secluded playa a few miles up the road from the busy tourist town of Jaco, we looked up as two long-tailed birds screeched their arrival in the branches of a nearby tree. As we all craned our necks to see them high above us, one stuck its head into a hole far up on the tree trunk, while the other one stood guard on an adjacent limb. The first one then crawled further inside the hollow until only its long red tail could be seen flashing from the thick trunk. They were obviously feeding their nest of baby birds! What a thrill! We watched for long minutes while the one we assumed was the mother bird (though who knows?) tended to her young and the second bird continued his vigil nearby. Eventually they flew away, leaving their young unattended for several hours as we hung out on the beach below. (Click on the photos to enlarge.)

 

The Macaw is a truly spectacular sight, with bright red and cobalt blue feathers and a length of close to three feet when fully grown. They can live for decades, up to 50 years in captivity and probably that long in the wild. They mate for life so you might guess the pair we saw were long-time lovers. Unfortunately, deforestation due to development, pesticide use and poaching for the pet trade has reduced the population significantly and narrowed the habitat from some 80% of Costa Rica’s territory to about 20% today. Their terrain now is restricted primarily to two areas of Costa Rica: the Carara Biological Reserve, only a few miles from Herradura Beach where my friends and I were relaxing, and the Osa Peninsula in the less developed southern region. Jan and I remarked with awestruck voices as to how truly lucky we were to have seen this pair in the wild.

Later in the day after the tide had come in, we watched with interest as several pelicans dive-bombed for dinner into the calm waters of Bahía Herradura. 

Although not as colorful as the Macaws, the pelicans were fascinating to observe as they blasted straight down into the waters, then settled peacefully on the surface while they gulped down the catch. Then the bird would cruise about for a few minutes, apparently digesting the latest morsel, before taking off for the next course. 

My view of Herradura Beach

Herradura is a long, tree-lined beach just down the coast from Los Suenos, a Marriott resort of hotel and condominiums that has dramatically changed the seaside communities nearby, prompting a swarm of new development in the area. Jan and Tom have been going to Herradura for several years and Jan recalled earlier days when the hillsides were pristine, the meadows full of white cattle and the local Tico neighborhood was serene. Now the upscale resort has brought in mega-bucks as evidenced by the hotel marina full of large white boats and the distant mountainside cluttered with condos. It is truly disconcerting to see the juxtaposition of modest Tico houses, populated with barefoot children and their working-class parents, across the road from the vast acreage of expensive homes, swimming pools and golf courses, fueled by affluent tourists.

Only my footprints

It was quite a treat for me to go on this outing with Jan and Tom, who are well known vendors at the Atenas and Grecia ferias for their outstanding organic breads and pastries. Although Jan tends the stall at the farmers markets, she is also quite an accomplished artist; their newly built home is chock-full of her gorgeous, unique artwork. Back in Pennsylvania Tom worked for years in the restaurant business, managing the bakery part of a “destination” restaurant and eventually expanding it to include a successful sandwich shop featuring his breads. Now he shares the delicious results of this expertise with Gringos and Ticos alike. His whole-wheat sourdough loaf is just to die for, especially toasted with lots of butter on it. Oh yum! And lucky me, he had prepared a picnic lunch for us of chicken breast, bacon, cheese, lettuce and tomato sandwiches with horseradish mayo on his 5-grain bread. What a feast! And to top it off, on the way home we enjoyed his special cookies made with bananas, walnuts, raisins and his freshly made organic peanut butter. Diet? What diet?!

No Pura Vida for the Pit Bull

Our sweet Roscoe gone again

This post will be a bit of a rant, I’m afraid. Our sweet neighbor pit bull Roscoe has disappeared once again and, unfortunately, I think I know why. He had not been neutered. That’s it in a nutshell. He’s a “teenager” now at almost one year of age and those hormones are raging. It’s only natural that he would head out looking for a girlfriend, and being such a pretty dog (and of a breed that for some inexplicable reason people seem to want), someone has taken him in and now has him restrained. It worries me so much that he’s chained up somewhere or being taught to be mean or otherwise being mistreated. Or perhaps he’s still running the streets, now hungry, lost, confused and wet here in the rainy season. And, of course, he’s no doubt out there making puppies that no one wants and that will end up as malnourished strays, themselves un-neutered and making still more unwanted pups. It’s a terrible vicious cycle.

Some Grande Cahonies

As fond as we are of our landlords and their adult son Estevan, whose dog this was, I have to say that they suffer from the all-too-common Tico attitude of negligence about having dogs spayed or neutered. In fact, sad to say that in this historically “macho” society, the idea of castrating male dogs is anathema to most men and even some women. When I suggested to Eduardo that the reason Roscoe had begun running off was because of his desire to mate, he discounted the idea completely, saying it’s only because they are not home all the time and the entire property has not been fenced. Such a span of fencing, however, would be prohibitively expensive, he said, shrugging his shoulders,  resigned to the loss of Roscoe. Although there may be some truth in that, at least in terms of the benefit of full-time supervision for the dog, I have no doubt that the sex drive was much more of a motivation to roam than absent humans.

When Roscoe was still only a puppy himself, a young stray dog began hanging around here. He was a pathetic little guy, skinny and insecure, tail between his legs and a hangdog look in his eyes, but he and Roscoe became pals and spent hours playing happily together. One afternoon when I was up the hill in our community garden behind Odie and Eduardo’s house, I found Estavan there picking fleas or ticks off of Roscoe and scowling at the stray, trying to run him off. As we talked, I learned that he disliked having the homeless dog around as he was giving Roscoe fleas. “So,” I asked, “are you going to have Roscoe neutered?” “No,” he quickly replied. “Well, then,” I said, “you know Roscoe’s going to be out there making more strays just like this one.” No comment from Estevan. Clearly, he did not consider that to be his problem.

The plight of stray dogs and cats has troubled Layne and me the entire time we’ve been in Costa Rica. During our first spring here when we lived up the mountain in Alto del Monte, a couple of emaciated young dogs made their way into our fenced compound, obviously hungry and looking for a handout. Since our neighbors in the duplex owned a couple of small dogs themselves, we gave the puppies some dog food and tried to figure out what to do about them. Down the road from us was the Lighthouse, a wonderful animal rescue operation run by a dedicated Gringa named Frances and her long-suffering husband Bruce. With a phone call, we learned that Frances had a spay and neuter clinic scheduled that weekend and that, although her household was full of other homeless critters at the moment, we could bring the dogs there for neutering at least. Given that the dogs were too undernourished to walk down the road to the Lighthouse, we bummed a ride from our neighbors and took the dogs for care that Sunday. They were bathed, neutered and as far as we know, made a recovery from their sad condition. Though she didn’t really have room for them, Frances did agree to keep them and try to find homes for them. For some of the stories of Lighthouse rescues, check out Frances’ blog: http://mrbudbud.blogspot.com/.

 

But most stray dogs are not so lucky. The problem is massive and the answer is education, which is what Frances says she focuses on by teaching the children in the neighborhood how important it is to give proper care, food, exercise and medical attention - including neutering! - to their pets. Perhaps the next generation will have a more enlightened attitude about other living creatures and how unkind it is to leave pets with their reproductive capability intact instead of giving them a happier, more carefree life without that drive to procreate.

But to end on a lighter note, this amazing looking bird landed on a limb just outside our back patio today and let out a loud - and I mean loud! - series of screeches. I hurried out with my camera and caught this shot. It was large like a parrot but with a snow-white breast and a black mask. I wish I knew what kind of bird it was but have no idea. Just more of Costa Rica’s incredible fauna! 

Don't Rain on Our Fiesta!

The thunder has been growling down from the sky for the last two hours, like some huge angry lion, with occasional hazy lightening flashes through dark clouds, followed by more rumbling until it’s virtually a continual sound, rising and falling with the distance. The rain continues to come down in a steady hum through the leaves. It’s a very “tropical” afternoon.

The normally placid Concho River

My mom relayed to me in great excitement this morning on the phone that in West Texas they had finally had a gully-washer of a storm, with the Concho River carrying dead trees, blue trash cans, Styrofoam cups and coolers and all manner of stuff downstream, as it rose along the banks that run by the Chamber of Commerce Visitor Center where she works. Total rainfall? According to the newspaper, about 1½ inches. Wowsa. Here in Costa Rica, I think we get more than that every afternoon lately. The rainy season seems to have moved in past veranillo, or little summer, when the weather dries up for a couple of weeks in July just in time for the kids’ summer break from school. Now we’re heading into the serious stuff that comes in September and October.

But the daily downpours don’t stop a fiesta, and since yesterday was Mother’s Day here in Costa Rica there were fiestas aplenty. I made my way to two of them, one Tico and one Gringo.

A few days ago my Tica housekeeper Cidia called and tried to communicate something to me about a fiesta for “Dia de Madre,” or Mother’s Day. I got that much. But the rest was … well, Spanish. Bad enough in person; impossible on the phone. So we finally agreed she’d have someone call back in English. When he did, I found that Cidia had paid for a ticket for me to come to a Mother’s Day dinner-dance at the community center behind the soccer field here in Barrio Los Angeles. When I learned that our friend Jeannette was coming as well, she and I made a plan to go together in her car in case of rain.

And of course, it was raining so off we went last evening, slogging our way through wet grass to the entrance of a long open hall with a stage at one end and a kitchen at the other, decorated in merry abandon with hundreds of red and white balloons, red hearts along the walls and red flowers on the tables. Loud music from the Latin band onstage was spilling out the windows as we parked and since Cidia’s table was in the front near the speakers, Jeannette and I suffered seriously numbed eardrums by the time we left.

But the only way to deal with loud music is to get up and dance. And dance we did. The entire crowd was women; the men were in the kitchen cooking, then serving us drinks and food. But the audience of women just ganged up on the dance floor and shook some booty, so to speak. It was a kick! One of the most enthusiastic dancers was a well-dressed grandmother who happily posed for my camera.

Cidia, in center, kickin' it!

Cidia's dancing shoes

Cidia, 2nd from right, and friends

Jeannette and the dancing grandma

After dinner of chicken, rice and salad, there was an apparently funny skit performed by four men, two dressed up as a mother and a daughter. I say “apparently” because Jeannette and I couldn’t follow the Spanish but the crowd would explode in laughter now and then. Finally, when the “daughter” turns up “pregnant” with her boyfriend, the “parents” go crazy but eventually forgive and all ended happily. The performers got a huge round of applause. When Jeannette and I finally left, Cidia and her friends gave me the carnation centerpiece, which now graces my coffee table. I’m honored that Cidia invited me. Hopefully, next year I’ll understand more Spanish!

Today was a fried chicken luncheon at Kay’s Gringo Postre, the gathering place for the Gringo community here in Atenas. With Layne in Oregon, it was just me in the taxi but once I got to Kay’s, there were lots of friends already seated and our buddy Marc was helping serve the food. After saying Hello to proprietors Kay and Tom, I found a seat by our friends Jackie and Neil, lately of Bend, Oregon. Although relative newcomers in town, the two have easily fit right in here in Atenas. We chatted about how they are enjoying life here and about other places to live in Costa Rica, all while being served a nice green salad, then a big plate of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans and a biscuit; iced cake for dessert. Buena comida! Good food! 

The Ups and Downs of Pura Vida

The beauty of the flowers on our walk this morning stands in stark contrast to the darkness of our mood. Yesterday we got word of another family member with a serious health crisis, prompting Layne to head for Oregon this Saturday for several weeks to help the family. We are quite worried and as a result of the uncertainty, we decided not to take the house I wrote about in my last post. Although we are disappointed, it would have been very difficult for me to pack and make the move without him here. Plus, the possibility of additional trips being necessary during the next few months means we need to conserve our funds; so all in all, it seemed like the best decision. As I’ve said before, we love where we live now, appreciate our wonderful landlords and other than wanting more space for parties and guests, we really are quite fine here. So here we’ll stay for now.

Roscoe returns!

The good news is that Roscoe, our pit bull pal reported missing in my last post, is back home! Eduardo went to the gentleman’s house who was holding the dog about a mile from here and, when he explained the situation, the man said, “Well, if he’s your dog he’ll know you.” And of course, when Roscoe saw Eduardo, he was beside himself with joy so the question was answered in the affirmative and home they came. When Roscoe came bounding down the hill to our apartment Tuesday morning, we were so happy to see him and clearly the feeling was mutual. The smile on his face was ear-to-ear!

Playa Dona Ana

Last week we went back to Playa Dona Ana with our friends Sally and Leonard where we rendezvous from time to time with Gringo and Tico friends from nearby communities. Often we meet someone new and this trip was no exception. In addition to acquaintances Paul and Gloria from San Ramon, who organize these beach outings, we met Kevin and Patricia, saw locals Jim and June and made a new friend named Joe. Layne had taken along his cool backpacker guitar, a gift from his son Jess, but when he found out that Joe was a “real” musician who plays local clubs with his band, Layne got stage fright and never took the guitar out of the case. However, when we learned that Joe would be playing here in Atenas this week, we decided we’d go watch the big boys play. So on Tuesday evening, we headed downtown to Don Tadeo’s bar and restaurant for dinner and a little live music in support of our new friend.

Musician Joe at the head of the table

Joe plays the drums, so with all his equipment he was the first band member to arrive and start setting up. But soon after he had begun to spread out the snares and cymbals, the manager approached him and as they talked, we could tell there was a problem. Joe soon came over to our table and explained to us there would be no music. After a few neighbors went to the city complaining about the noise and other problems, management had decided to end the live music. Unfortunately, they didn’t get in touch with the band members in time to avoid their making the trip to Atenas, in one case a three-hour drive from Cartago! To say we were all disappointed is an understatement. But when our Tica friend Leigh and her Gringo date arrived, we made the most of the evening with a few beers and some lively conversation. So, as we say, Pura Vida! 

Angels and Pit Bulls and Saints! Oh My!

With all the desperately bad news worldwide, it’s hard to muster up the energy or happy state of mind needed to write a blog post. Even here in Costa Rica we’ve had some troubling headlines: a recent 4-day strike by Caja (the national health care program) workers amid word that the Caja is in serious financial straits, and we’ve seen an uptick in crime in Atenas in the form of one home invasion of a Tico family at gunpoint and a few burglaries. Good grief!

Our new home!

But at least we have some good news personally. After weeks of searching, we have finally found the new home we’ve been seeking. We put down a deposit yesterday and will move in September 1st. We can hardly wait to begin enjoying a bigger space with two bedrooms and two baths, the modern open kitchen and great room and our own swimming pool! It’s only partially furnished so we will have to buy some “stuff,” but we got the house at well under market value so we feel pretty pleased with the decision. Best of all is the location: walking distance to town (mostly downhill), on a frequent bus route, slightly higher (i.e., cooler) elevation and friends who live nearby. And as you can see, the place looks like a Mediterranean villa!

It’s very hard to think of leaving our home here and our wonderful landlords -- who have become friends -- but I guess we are somewhat spoiled Gringos and need our “comforts.” More importantly, we very much want to be able to host dinner parties, cocktail get-togethers and pool parties and that’s not easy in our small apartment here. So it’s on to the next adventure.

One of the many things we knew we would miss in moving from here is Roscoe, the friendly pit bull neighbor who has been such a consistent visitor to our front porch during the late afternoon cocktail hour. Lately, we noticed that he had not been around and we have become concerned that he has run off and gotten lost, was stolen or worse. Two young men came by yesterday afternoon with their own pit bulls on leashes and called out to us asking if a dog was missing from here. I said yes and called Eduardo to come speak with them. They talked in animated Spanish about Roscoe for several minutes, although exactly what was said we don’t know. We expect to talk with Odie, our landlady, later today and find out what has befallen him. We are heartbroken to think something bad might have happened. He is such a sweetie. We miss him and hope he comes home soon.

We had quite a surprise last Tuesday as we headed out on our morning walk to town. As we turned the corner onto the main road here in Barrio Los Angeles, Layne and I were surprised to find the street festooned with tall plants and white flowers and energetic Ticas were laying a red carpet up the steps to the church, then further on blue and white angels on posts stretched as far as the eye could see. 

We knew it was a holiday, a religious celebration honoring Nuestra Senora de Los Angeles, also known as La Negrita, the patron saint of Costa Rica. On that day, thousands of devotees make a pilgrimage to visit the Basilica in Cartago dedicated to this religious figure, some walking barefoot carrying rosary beads, or even crawling for many miles to pay respects to their saint. What we didn’t know is that because our small barrio is named for this “Lady of the Angels,” local Ticos go all out in decorating the nearby church and entire neighborhood to welcome the faithful who come here for the holiday instead of trekking all the way to Cartago. And apparently many from Atenas do just that because as we continued into town, foot traffic was all going the other direction, heading to Barrio Los Angeles. In our typical Tico style, we greeted each one with a “Buenos Dias” and a smile, but soon the sheer number of the faithful coming our way made speaking to everyone a bit much. We persevered, however, in honor of Pura Vida, our patron saint. We hope Our Lady of Los Angeles appreciated the courtesy to her followers. 

Update on Roscoe: We learned from Odie a few minutes ago that he ran off and, according to the two young men, is being held at a home nearby. We are hopeful that Eduardo will be able to rescue him when he goes there tomorrow.